Speak of the Devil
by carryonmy-waywardson
Summary: Lucifer's in Sam's body, but the Winchester finds a way to come to the surface, to have a moment with Dean.


**Pairing: **Sammifer/Dean.  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>wing!kink, slight dub-con, knife!kink.

* * *

><p>The world felt funny. Everything was spinning, and Dean's vision was fading in and out; threatening to black out completely. There was a heavy smell around the room - <em>if<em> that's where he was - and the back of his head was throbbing dully. Dean tried to recall the last thing he had seen, trying to grasp on the last _little_ bit of hope he had of trying to figure out where he was.

_Sam._He was there, just before everything went black and…

Everything fell into place in that one moment, taking Dean's breath away when he realized that _Sam_ had done this to him. Gasping for breath, Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and opened his eyes, blinking at the small bit of light flooding the space he inhabited.

Looking around, Dean saw that he was, indeed, in a room; there were four walls, a door that was open, and a light hanging on the ceiling above his head. He tried to swallow, feeling how dry his mouth was, the same being said for his throat. With a frustrated groan, Dean tried to climb to his feet, _tried_ to escape through the door, but he didn't make it past crawling on his hands and knees before he collapsed.

The world went black again, his throat throbbing along with just about every other body part, and Dean knew he was done for. His breathing slowed as his body succumbed to the unconsciousness that quickly washed over him. In his dreams, Dean saw Sam - the _old_ one - smiling and laughing, sitting on the passenger side of the seat.

His subconscious recognized this scene - it was a few nights after they left Palo Alto. Jess had just died, and Sam was in a murderous rampage, until they had ended up at Bobby's. The old hunter had a way of making things look better than they really were, and he had done just that. Within an hour of being at Bobby's, Sam had let loose; downed a couple of beers, and even sang along to every song that came on Bobby's old, worn out radio.

"_Dean, I.." _Sam had muttered to him, his breath _reeking_ of alcohol, and Dean coughed out a laugh, patting his brother on the shoulder. _"Save it, Sasquatch_," Dean had answered his baby brother, just before the kid fell asleep on him, and just as Bobby got a call from another hunter.

So, Dean and Bobby had loaded Sam into the car, and they were on there way a few states over. By the time Dean had pulled into town, Sam was awake; complaining of a headache and asking where they were. Dena smoothed things over, told them about the job, and drove them to a motel.

The job ended quickly, and they were on their way again; onto the next gig. That night, in the car, Sam had looked at Dean with a smile he'd _only _seen the kid pull for women, and before he knew it - Sam's hand was on his lap.

Dean figured the kid was still having post-traumatic stress, or whatever, but he still didn't stop him when Sam's long, soft fingers had wrapped around his cock. Dean hadn't stopped him when he felt soft bangs dancing along the skin of his cock, nor had he uttered a word of protest when he felt Sam's tongue against him.

Dean awoke, hours later, gasping for breath and in another location. This time, he was in a much more open room, with a few pieces of furniture and windows, that were letting a _minimum _amount of light through the blinds. Blinking his eyes open, Dean let them fall on every piece of furniture in the room; from a green couch, to a bed that looked as though it were decades old.

"Glad to see you're awake." The voice startled Dean and he fell back against the wall, eyes wide with panic. A familiar laugh filled the room, and Dean heard footsteps moving toward him, the wood floor creaking under the stranger's weight. "Aw, c'mon, Dean.." The voice got closer and Dean drew in a sharp breath.

"Sam." Dean doubled over in a fit of coughing and choked on his own saliva, and words. So, he had been right about Sam being behind his 'kidnapping' — _if _you could call it that, and there was something different about him. After his coughing spell, Dean looked up at his brother again; their eyes locking for a brief moment, before Dean dropped his gaze to the floor.

When their eyes met, Dean knew it wasn't _his _Sam standing in front of him, but a new, completely different version of his brother. Dean could hear the footsteps coming closer and could feel the floorboards shake with Sam's body weighing down on it.

"Not exactly, Dean." Sam knelt in front of Dean, one hand hovering over his hair, as he smiled softly at the trembling man. "See, no one listened when I said I was going to say yes. You all thought I was lying; saying that poor little Sammy couldn't _do_ that kind of job." Another dark chuckle arose from Sam's throat as he gripped Dean's jaw roughly.

"I guess I proved them all right - you, Bobby, Ellen…" Sam's voice died away as he leaned in closer, lips pressed against Dean's ear, whispering. "Mom, dad… But, _John_ always knew this was what I would become. He was right, you know - when he said you'd have to save me, or kill me." There was a small _tsk_ sound coming from Sam's lips and Dean shut his eyes tightly, swallowing hard as he tried to wrench himself away from Sam.

"I'm sorry." Dean's voice was low, rough and broken as he opened his eyes, gaze falling on Sam. His heart dropped to his stomach when he realized that _that_ was not Sam; the Sam he had known, and grown to love, was gone, possibly forever. Dean bit back at the sob that threatened to rise and blinked back tears, writing against his brother's hold.

"No need to be, Dean. I like this life, much more than I thought I would. All of this… _power _is amazing." Sam chuckled and dropped onto his bottom in front of Dean; legs spread and placed on either side of the hunter's, while a small smile played on Sam's lips.

"Sammy.." Dean croaked, reaching out to touch Sam, and shivering when his fingertips ran along smooth, cold skin. The _feel_ of Sam was still there, and Dean knew that his brother was in there somewhere; buried deep beneath pile after pile of Lucifer.

"Dean." Sam breathed, and for a second - a _split_ second - Dean could have sworn it was **his** Sammy; his baby brother who had a big heart, and a hard head. But when the hand around his jaw clenched tighter, Dean let out a broken cry and shut his eyes, silently cursing at himself.

"I remember the things we used to do, Dean.." Sam whispered, leaning in to breathe hot breath against Dean's skin, sending shivers up his spine. "I still have those urges, I still have the romantic tendencies… You just have to bring them out." Sam pressed his lips against Dean's neck, feeling the _real_ Sam coming to the surface.

"Sammy, please… I love you." Dean was desperate now, trying to cling to his heart and soul, which he had given to Sam long ago. He _knew_ it was there, locked deep inside of the body in front of him, but he didn't know how much effort it would take to pull it out.

Dean looked up and saw the light in Sam's eyes soften, along with his expression, and the hand dropped away from his face. Working his jaw, Dean leaned in and grabbed Sam by the neck, pulling them together until their lips collided in a teeth-crashing kiss. Sam's eyes fluttered shut and he was half-Sam, half-something else in that moment; one instinct told him to grab Dean and shove him down on the floor, the other told him to kill his brother.

"Sammy.." Dean panted as he pulled away, fingers moving to Sam's hair and gripping the locks gently. Sam's eyes opened, falling on Dean's, and the eldest brother offered a small smile. Sighing, Sam returned the smile, only half way, and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Come with me." Dean scrambled on his feet and, after staggering once or twice as he adjusted to being vertical, helped Sam up. The two brothers walked out of the room, Dean blindly walking into wrong doors, and walking down stairs without knowing where they lead.

Eventually, Sam had helped him out of the building and Dean breathed in the fresh air, allowing the sweet oxygen into his lungs. After a few more breaths, Dean looked around for his car, knowing that Sam _would_ keep it, even if he were taken over by Lucifer.

"Over there." Sam whispered, pointing at a crowd of trees just to the left of the house, and Dean spotted a tail light. Suddenly feeling much better, Dean ran over to the Impala and threw himself on the trunk, arms stretched along it in an almost hug.

"I missed you, baby." Dean mumbled softly as he pulled himself off and threw a look over his shoulder, at Sam. His brother was walking toward the car, and Dean moved to the driver side door, climbing in. Sam followed suit, only with the _passenger_ side, and handed Dean the keys.

With a grin, Dean took the keys and turned the car on, hands immediately going to the tape deck. Ejecting the tape that was already in there, Dean looked at it, smiled, and shoved it back in. It was an AC/DC tape, which was the _last_ thing that Dean listened to in the Impala, and "_Back In Black_" started playing just as he backed out.

"Where are we—" Sam started, and Dean cast a look at him, shaking his head, pointing toward the woods beside the house. Confused, Sam stared at Dean, slack-jawed but shook his head, thinking better of it to ask questions.

"You said you knew what we did," Dean glanced at Sam for a second, to watch him nod, and smiled. "Then you know that you and I - Sam, that is - have never had sex in, or on the Impala." There was a chuckle from Sam's chest and Dean sighed, loving the sound of an _honest_ laugh, or a half-way honest one, anyway.

He pulled into a heavily wooded area and put the car in park, sliding across the leather seat until his thigh touched Sam's. There was a smile on Dean's face as he maneuvered himself on top of Sam's legs, straddling him. Sam let out a surprised yelp when Dean's hands flew across his clothing; unbuttoning his shirt, and unfastening his jeans so quickly it made Sam's head spin.

Then, their lips were meshed together in another heated kiss, and Sam wrapped his hands around Dean's hips pulling him down against his own lap. There was a moan escaping from Dean's throat, long and low, and Sam smiled against his lips, hands working on pulling at Dean's shirt.

Sam's rough hands slid against Dean's skin and caused him to shudder, hands yanking the opening of Sam's jeans open more. As Sam continued moving the soft cotton along his stomach, Dean slipped a hand into his jeans, rubbing Sam's cock through his boxers.

A low hiss escaped Sam's lips as Dean pulled away and pushed his fingertips roughly against Sam, grinning. He knew that whatever Sam was now, he wouldn't be able resist _anything_ that Dean did to him. Sam moaned softly, throwing his head back and feeling Lucifer stir inside of him; they were both there, in that moment, enjoying Dean's touch, and there was nothing Sam could do to fight the Devil off.

"Dean.." Sam muttered, feeling his body shudder as he pushed Dean off of his lap and onto the seat. He opened the door and scrambled outside, doubling over and panting; a tremor passing from one shoulder to the other as a searing heat overwhelmed him.

"What's wrong.." Dean climbed out of the car and placed a hand on Sam's back, only to have the kid pull away and stagger to the left, away from Dean. Stepping back, Dean watched Sam shake and convulse slightly, brows knit in confusion. He had no idea what was happening with Sam; his best guess was, however, that it was no longer _Sam_- or even part of his brother - but Lucifer, fully.

"Wings." The word was so low, and spoken in a shaky voice, that Dean almost didn't catch it, until Sam repeated it, louder. With wide eyes, Dean stood back more, watching Sam rip his shirt off and toss it onto the hood of the Impala. Seconds after Sam was shirtless, Dean saw two large, black wings sprout from Sam's shoulder blades.

As Dean stared, slack-jawed and in awe, the radio kept blaring _"Back In Black"_and Dean realized the irony of the song. With a low chuckle, Dean stepped forward, placing a hand on Sam's spine once he had stopped shaking. Sam's body was covered in sweat, and tiny pieces of black feathers. Curious, Dean plucked one of the pieces of down away from Sam's slick back and held it up.

"Dude, you have _wings_.." Dean chuckled again, one hand hovering over the wing sticking out from Sam's right shoulder. He heard a dry laughter and swallowed hard, eyes roaming the pitch black feathers under his fingertips. "I know Lucifer is an angel, but he still has…" Dean shook his head and pressed his skin against Sam's wings, listening to him cry out from the contact.

"Yeah, well.. It was a surprise to me, too." Sam straightened up, taking a step back on shaky legs. Leaning against the Impala, Sam turned until his eyes met Deans and offered his brother a small, shy smile.

"Still think I'm attractive?" Sam asked, almost in a cocky manner, and watched as Dean's eyes flashed back to his wings. Swallowing hard, Sam slipped his hands into his pockets, fearing Dean's answer.

"I think you're…" Dean sighed, sifting through his mind for the right words, until he opened his mouth again, "beautiful." The word came out as almost a sigh, and Sam smiled, moving his hands out of his jeans to Dean's waist, pulling him close.

"You're not just saying that because Lucifer is in here, and if you—" Dean stopped Sam by kissing him, hands gripping either of his sides. Dragging his nails up, Dean kissed and bit at Sam's lips, causing him to moan and drop his head back, giving the eldest Winchester full access to his throat.

"Don't care if there's some… fucking demon in you, Sammy.." Dean muttered as he bit and sucked on Sam's neck, feeling his body shudder under his touch. "All I care about is _you_." Dean almost growled the word as he pushed Sam onto the hood of the Impala, hands gripping the spot just under Sam's ribcage.

There was a small cry from Sam, just before a low, dark chuckle escaped his throat, and suddenly Dean was the one sprawled across the hood of the Impala. In that moment, it wasn't Sam, or even _half_ of what used to be him; it was Lucifer, taking full control of Sam's body once again.

"Aw, but you should care." It was Sam's voice speaking, but Lucifer's words as he dug in the back of his jeans, pulling out a knife. Holding the blade between his teeth, Sam pushed Dean's shirt up and tossed it onto the ground, leaning forward, holding Dean's hands above his head with one of Sam's hands.

"Because Sammy's not here anymore." There was another low chuckle as Sam pulled the knife away from his mouth and dropped it onto Dean's bare back, running the jagged edge along his skin. Dean writhed under the touch, groaning as he fought against Lucifer's hold, feeling the blade drag down his spine.

"Then why are you doing this?" Dean's voice was low, broken again, as he collapsed against the car, giving up on fighting Lucifer. He heard that chuckle again, closer to his ear, and cringed away from it. True, that might be Sam's body pressing against his own, but Lucifer was controlling him; making Sam act out his every move.

"Because I can _feel_ Sam's need for you, Dean.." The voice was low against the base of Dean's neck and he shuddered again, eyes snapping shut. Sam chuckled again and drew the knife up; barely applying pressure and sighing when Dean cried out against the pain.

"I figure I can give him one last bit of fun before I kill you." Sam pulled back, the knife moving along Dean's back more, until it was at the base of his neck. The blade skittered along Dean's slick skin, causing his body to break out into goosebumps. Despite Dean's struggling, he couldn't control the sudden rush of blood that flowed to his cock every time the blade slid along his skin. He finally gave him, pushing his hips against the car in an effort to get _any _friction he could, whining when his covered cock slid against the Impala.

"Then get it over with." Dean whimpered, his voice almost pleading as he gyrated his hips more, panting heavily. There was a moan in the air - _Sam's_ moan - and Dean groaned loudly in response, pushing his hips back against Sam's body. That action gained him a hiss and he smiled, hearing a metallic sound beside him as the knife fell onto the hood of the car. Then Dean felt hands wrapping around his waist, holding him in place.

Hesitating, Sam slipped his hands to Dean's crotch and began undoing his jeans, tugging them down, along with his boxers. Dean's pants hung around his ankles as Sam began working on his own jeans with one hand, while the other picked the knife up again; running it along the small of Dean's back.

The hunter shuddered and chewed his bottom lip, shivering at the sudden breeze he felt along his bare legs and ass. He heard the sound of a zipper being undone and felt the knife pull away again, falling to the ground with a soft thud. Sam pushed his pants down, along with his own boxers, and spit on his hand; rubbing the saliva all over his cock.

Before Sam pushed into Dean, he rubbed the excess spit on the eldest hunter's entrance, and spread his ass. Giving Dean no warning, or time to adjust, Sam slipped into him and groaned, running a hand up Dean's back, gripping his shoulder. Dean screamed at the intrusion and leaned his forehead against the hood of the car, breathing heavily.

Sucking in a deep breath, Dean forced himself to relax against Sam; allowing him to slip all the way in, hitting Dean's prostate. The hunter yelped and pressed his fingertips against the hood, running them down the black paint slowly, breathing in and out heavily.

Sam didn't give Dean any time to adjust before he was rocking his hips against the hunter; groaning and gripping Dean's shoulder and hip hard enough to bruise. The feeling of Dean, so hot, _so tight_, wrapped around his shaft was better than anything Lucifer had ever experienced.

Pulling out, Sam hesitated a second before slamming in, listening to Dean cry out; the breath being knocked from him. With a grin, Sam kept slamming inside of Dean, listening to his broken moans and gasps, while he moaned loudly; fingernails digging into Dean's skin and dragging down, scratching the hunter.

"Oh, Dean.." Sam whispered-moaned out and leaned forward, his lips right next to Dean's. "Now I understand, _ah_, why Sam loved… _oh god.._fucking you so much." Sam gasped for breath as he rammed into Dean once more, hitting his prostate for a third time, causing the hunter to cry out louder.

"Sam.." Dean whimpered out, feeling his cock sliding against the car, soaked with pre-cum. Every time Sam thrust into him, hitting his prostate, Dean felt his cock throbbing more than before, feeling as though he was getting closer to cumming.

"Dean, _fuck_." Sam moaned out, thrusting into Dean once more before his body shuddered; vision going white, and knees shaking slightly. Pulling out, Sam moved a hand to his cock and stroked it hard; panting and grunting just before releasing all over Dean's back, his wings flapping wildly as his orgasm hit.

Coming down from his climax, Sam staggered back and pulled his jeans up, groaning as he felt his wings disappearing back into his body. As he re-did his jeans, Sam looked at Dean; sprawled out on the Impala, legs shaking, with cum all over his back. Chuckling, Sam slapped the middle of Dean's back and turned, walking back toward the building; leaving Dean a trembling mess.

When Dean's legs stopped shaking, he stood and looked around for Sam, disappointed when he realized that he was gone. Sighing, Dean pulled his pants up, concealing his erection, and picked up his shirt before putting it on.

"I'm sorry, Sammy.." Dean whispered as he made his way to the driver's side of the Impala and climbed in, turning her on. He pulled out of the woods and onto a long, gravel road, eyes darting to the rear view mirror every few seconds. Dean was surprised, honestly, that Lucifer hadn't killed him, but wondered if, maybe, Sam had taken over and let Dean go. It didn't matter much to Dean, because he was _alive_, and had spent time with his brother, regardless of the fact that Sam had the Devil inside of him.


End file.
